


When Words Were Once So kind

by QueenJaegerjaquez



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenJaegerjaquez/pseuds/QueenJaegerjaquez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Assassins and Samurai have feuded for years now. Caught amidst the conflict is an Assassin by the name of Eve, and a Samurai known as Grimmjow. Eve is ordered to assassinate Grimmjow, but instead finds herself protecting him, and falling for him in the process. But fate has never allowed a Samurai and Assassin to love one another, and so they are thrown into a world of chaos. (Romantic moments, Swearing and Violence) OC/Grimmjow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Words Were Once So kind

 

 Awakening, Chapter 1

 

Grimmjow's face suddenly fell, losing all casualness when he came to the understanding that something was wrong. His glinting azure eyes lost their coolness, and his stern expression faltered.

"What the..." my voice trailed off, all gravity dropping in my tone. I felt this fierce, burning sensation in my lower body, searing my flesh. Usually so calm and controlled, I was unable to hold back the painful look hitting my face. I let out a struggled cry, staggering backwards. My arms gripped my stomach, as though it would support me. Instinctively, my knees buckled, and back arched.

The taller man came closer, gripping me swiftly before I could collapse. "E-Eve?"

It was the first time I'd ever heard his usually steely voice waver. He sounded so afraid, so concerned. Concern? Surely that wasn't like Grimmjow.

The jolt was so sudden, had caught me off guard. I could handle pain, but this – _this_ – was unreal. My muscles were cringing, screaming, slowly convulsing with shock. This was what came to be known to me as Grimmjow's aftermath. I immediately regretted jumping in front of that sword five minutes ago. It seemed I'd been able to hold back all the agony until now.

As a trained assassin, I was more than formidable when dealing with the aftershock of poisons and cuts, but I wasn't exactly the strongest in endurance. The reckless bastard had one hell of a slash.

When the pain amplified, my body simply chose to surrender. I succumbed to unconsciousness, letting a pair of strong arms enfold me, my slender form melting into his anxious embrace.

"Eve…" when there was no reply, the Samurai stiffened. " _Eve_!"

The last thing I remembered at this moment was my vision blurring into blackness, and the faint scent of vanilla augmented with cinnamon wash over me.

"Yer one hell of a handful, you little..."

 

* * *

 

I remember reading somewhere that people can become trapped in a repetitive sleep while they remain unconscious. The text said that 'One can experience many things, including dreams that one may have which reflect what is actually happening, while unconscious. One may also become imprisoned by such dreams, while one is in this state'. Whoever wrote such a thing clearly had no idea what it was like while you were in pain and awake at the same time.

For the next two days – or what felt like two days – I could only briefly open my eyes, or merely move my fingers. Anything else was overly ambitious. My body felt like ice, frozen solid in the form of stone, my bones protesting when I took the effort to try move. The first time regaining consciousness was rather gradual, and very confusing. I had no idea whether it was dream or reality.

As soon as I fluttered open my thick eyelashes, I was greeted by more darkness. Everything was a dark indigo hue. Only the slight flicker of what appeared to be golden street lights, and the distant structure of a car window, was visible. My eyes told me I was in the back of a car, but my body told me I was laying on something – or _someone_.

Wherever I was, it was warm. My nearest guess would have to be Grimmjow, since he was last in my company, however that was impossible. I couldn't see the guy ever allowing himself to show such affection to a hired assassin, accompanying her to a hospital in a car. It was the least likely scenario.

My eyes closed again, and I tried to move a hand, but instead all I could do was stretch my fingers. Something warm rested against my palm, so I tried to brush past it, stretching my little finger, almost lifting my hand completely. Whatever it was seemed to fold around my hand completely. It curled over my fingers, emitting warmth into my skin. It was… someone else's hand?

"Ssshhh. Try to move, an' it'll only hurt more." A familiar voice murmured gently.

I thought I could smell trivial vanilla again, and it tickled my nose ever so slightly, taunting me to enter reality. I could feel the indistinct murmur of a heartbeat resonate in my ear, as though my head was resting on someone's chest. Admittedly, it wasn't that bad. I felt at peace for some reason, although I was ensnared in an unmoving state.

I would have opened my eyes again, perhaps moved my fingers a second time, or tried to speak and find out who I was with in the backseat of a travelling vehicle… but my mind progressively grew heavy and clouded, and I drifted back into blackness.

* * *

 

 

The next time I awoke, or dreamt, whichever best described the unexplainable experience, I was in a bed. Yes, the fact that it was a bed was unmistakable. Golden extended bed posts on either flank, formal red curtains draped over the sides, almost like a royal colour scheme.

I'd been here before – once – on a mission to assassinate Luppi, the Arrancar Samurai. I had successfully performed the mission, silencing him during his sleep. This time was different. I guessed I was in the Arrancar's home now. How I ended up here would linger a mystery, but I was definitely here. I could recognise the vast golden mirrors and rather elegant interior from my last visit.

Notably, my vision had improved, and my fingers could unfurl themselves now, and even my legs and limbs felt moveable. Still, my body ached, but it was tolerable.

That was when everything came flooding back to me. Grimmjow's slice into my stomach – Ulquiorra's end – and my collapse. I had abandoned my last mission; the assassination of Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was a failure. He remained alive. I was to receive punishment, if I returned to headquarters.

 _If_ I ever returned to headquarters.

Right now, I was probably a weakened captive, kept in the Arrancar hideout. My only assumption was that damn Jaeguarjaques had brought me back here.

I was just about to attempt to lift myself out of the double bed, when a loud creak erupted from across the room, and my eyes locked on to the newcomer who came rushing through lofty white doors.

"Who have we here?"

My only instinct as an assassin would have been to hide, disappear, or attack. Every bone in my body was taught to do so. If my presence was revealed to the enemy, it was time to act. But right now, my body had suffered hindering damage, and I was the prisoner.

I was actually a _prisoner_.

I'd never been in this situation before.

The stranger was a fairly young, devilishly good looking man, with an authoritative aura about him. I sensed it the moment he stepped in, with that sincere stare and intellectual impression. I knew him from somewhere, but was unable to name such a man.

"Eve, pleased to see you are awake. I've been waiting to meet you in person," he spoke, voice charmingly soft. I reminded myself that appearances and voices deceive. "I'm Sosuke Aizen."

The man pushed back a slice of brown hair, leaving a pause of silence for me to reply. But I didn't.

"From what I hear, you are quite the assassin. You even managed to hack off one of my former espada, Luppi, nice work." There was something cruel in the way he complimented my 'nice work', as though he had no regard for his people at all. "We're keeping you here, but not to worry, we won't harm you. I understand you saved one of my subordinates, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, so I trust you won't pose much of a threat for now. We're simply on neutral grounds." I fixed him a cautious, direct stare. "Neutral grounds?" "Ah, you see, you did me a favour. Luppi wasn't much use to us, and we needed rid of him, so for that I'm quite grateful. In return, we helped heal you a little. I heard Grimmjow gave you quite the scar, didn't he?" He gestured at her stomach, which I noticed was exposed if not for the bandages wrapped tightly around my skin.

"Yes, he did." That bastard. I would have strong words for him the next time we met.

"Therefore, I consider us neutral," Aizen continued, his equable tone absorbing my attention. "You have done me a favour, and we you. I'm sure you pose no threat as of now, particularly in that condition. Our only requirement is that you remain here until you are fully healed."

Remain here. ' _Of course, there's always a catch._ '

"Well, bye for now. I'll expect to see you soon," the strange man turned, without needing any further answer, strolling casually out of the room, as though no conversation had taken place.

I propped myself up, still examining the bandages. I was wearing a white Espada-like outfit; a loose shirt and slim knee length pants. Deciding to see the scar for myself, I quickly untied the shirt, my fingers then sliding under the bandages to untie them.

It was a dark reminder of recent events.

The mark was deep, distending from my abdomen to the top left of my ribcage, a claw that carved into my skin, a souvenir from Grimmjow. It was hideous.

' _He has one hell of a slash._ ' I thought.

I cursed silently, vowing to avenge myself one day. However, it was apparent to me that it was my own fault – I had chosen to take the slash for Grimmjow. Why I had done it, I didn't know.

I had just gone back to refitting the bandages, when yet another visitor entered the room.

' _Speak of the devil._ '

The door ushered behind him, the bluenette making his way in slowly, face solemn. The characteristic bluish markings hung below his eyes, and I could have sworn there was concern etched into his features.

I ignored his presence, continuing to roll the bandages securely over the scar, half of it still exposed. It didn't hurt, but was vaguely sore, yet the appearance of it was more disturbing than anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jaegerjaques' gaze falling on my new injury, and his face contorted with guilt.

Seeing his ashamed expression built a knot inside the pit of my stomach. I didn't know why, but his remorse seemed to discomfort me.

"Did Ulquiorra live?" I asked, facing away from him, covering the bandages, and the scar along with it, with my shirt.

The Espada shrugged. "They say he lived."

I straightened my back, returning to my usual, composed posture. My wrists, too, were swathed by bandages, I realised.

"Y'know, you were out for three days."

"And?"

The carefree Arrancar tilted his head. "Don't you wanna get outta here? Three days, your boss will be pissed with you gone."

"Oh, he's more than pissed, Grimmjow." I hardened my stare, almost glaring at him, blue meeting blue. "I'm probably safer here than there. My execution will be announced later, for failing my mission, and resisting arrest. I'm not an assassin anymore."

"Then what are you?"

"A fugitive."

* * *

 

 **Author's Notes:** Thank you for reading! I appreciate any form of feedback. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Keep in mind that everything will slowly be explained throughout the chapters. As this is from first person perspective, this is told from Eve's point of view, unlike the parallel story ' _When Words Were Once So Cruel_ ' which is told by Grimmjow. For a better understanding of this story, you may wish to read the parallel one first. Careful though - it may spoil the ending for you.

Expect weekly updates. If you don't want to wait, simply go [here](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9400593/1/When-Words-Were-Once-So-Kind) for more chapters and better updates.

Bleach and all its characters belong to Tite Kubo.

 


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